"We need to represent the males in line dancing"

I dedicate today's title to Steve-o Vandenberg, unofficial "Chuck the Chicken" team captain, co-creator of our team's theme song, and fellow male line dancer. August camp is going to be amazing with that ultra player.

Of course, not that regular camp is not amazing.

Which is what this post will be about. Camp is pretty much the most (best adjective you can think of) place on Earth.

So, it starts with Evan and I heading up to camp with Borck and his mother. We were rocking out to Billy Joel and Styx (Borck is pretty old-school...comparatively at least) when we heard a "helicopter". This "helicopter" caused Mrs. Borck to swerve, and we eventually pulled over. Turned out that there was no helicopter, but our right rear tire had been completely shredded. Werner and Chrissy O. pulled over, but we didn't need their help. Because Borck is one studly tire-changing machine. yeah.

Well, we finally got there, and, being late, I got last choice of bunks. Luckily, there was still a bottom bunk available. I far prefer the bottom bunk. I went with my counselor, Ben Stein (no relation to the celebrity). Evan has had him before, and he's a really cool guy. So, my cabin is semi - okay, but I would have far enjoyed it if Sell was with me. The best person in my cabin was most certainly the one and only Dave Moldenhauer. Dave loves....



...Jesus.



The first day was pretty much just getting settled in. I said hi to Becca, Sara, Arielle, Sell, and the whole gang. It was various mixers until we did stuff. Then we went to bed. It was pretty durn eventful.

The next day we woke up and had breakfast. crazy. I went off with some first years for...thing, I guess... with Matthew and April. Then we had a session. It was about homesick campers. Keith makes me laugh.

After lunch and a nap (I was pretty much really tired for the whole week - I never take naps) we got rained out, and we watched some training videos. First, the extremely gross investigation of gross restaurants and their gross doings. gross. And who can forget Bob Ditter. I'm pretty sure he should be president of the united states. or at least official creept camp guy of the united states. one of those would work just fine.

Sometime during the next day, the "Jesus Clique" was established. This was Sell, Arielle, Sarah T., Sierra, and I. Of course, there are other members, but those were pretty much the founders. It was pretty cool. We all hung out during evening games and when it started raining, we all yelled "By a show of hands, WHO IS GETTING WET!" Of course, the amusement was never lost on us, and said constant amusement was represented by the back of a simple white T-Shirt.

We at one point went to the low ropes course. That was thoroughly enjoyable, even though Sara and I do not make very good wire-walk partners. Nate Moldenhauer is really tall and good at doing things.

Matthew was in a really cool campfire with some "sexist comments" that were hilarious, and not at all mean spirited. It was all in good fun, and all had a good time. After that, we had a Nighttime prayer meeting where we prayed and sang and everything good about Camp Phillip. I thought it was really good. I always grow in my faith somehow up there, and that was a big part of it. Afterwards, Sell and I agreed that now, for sure, Camp is the best place on Earth.

Our Jesus clique got a pet "Capatiller" as Arielle calls them. We named him Snoopy, and he died fairly soon after. We gave him a proper burial.

Sell had to leave early to march in a parade (BAND NERD!!! HAHAHAHA oh wait...) So we all dearly missed him. disappointment. hurt. grr. rawr.

Sarah, Sierra, Arielle, and I went swimming and briefly discussed any encounters I may or may not have had regarding quantum physics at the tender age of five years old. It was pretty deep.

After that, we played the most fantastic game of "Chuck the Chicken" in which rubber chickens are thrown, and good times are had by all. Steve-o and I developed what we thought would be an acceptable cheer for our team.

"I threw the turkey, but I did not chuck the chicken"

To the tune of Bob Marley's "I shot the sheriff"

I followed up with buying a "Chuck the Chicken" T-shirt in the camp store.

After that, it was basically goodbyes. Schleef is god at that. Ali and I said goodbye and such. Not that she was the only one, but I felt the need to mention her. Because we're best friends and all.

As we had to leave, Werner decided to follow my mom home, but wanted some company on the ride home...to keep him awake I suppose. We had a good time (As always...how is possible to have a not good time in a brown '78 Buick?). We pretty much rocked out to OAR, Relient K, and Streetlight and discussed whatever was on our minds. Matt is a good person, indeed.

He dropped me off in town, and my family took Borck home. It was really cool, because we passed by Arielle's apartment complex, which is a converted school building. Maybe I'll drop in there sometime.

When I got home, Katie and I discussed the possibilities of helping out with Fort day camp, seeing that she goes to that church and all. That would be at least 101% of coolness.

So that's camp for you...

um.

closing remark thingy.

PS: Danielle, if you're reading this, I have to tell you that the "This Blake is Samanas S-a-m-a-n-a-s" thing somehow made its way to Camp Phillip, so you're pretty much a celebrity by now.